


the beat of her heart (and the song in mine)

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, F/M, Grief, Merlance, Nyssara, Resurrection, Season 3 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:58:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be their first date, the first of many dates. But instead, she's lying dead in his arms. </p>
<p>But Oliver can't live without Felicity, and at the risk of his own life, goes down into the darkness of Hades alongside Laurel, Nyssa, and Malcolm to bring the ones they love back from the dead.</p>
<p>But resurrection comes a price, and not everyone is going to make it out alive. How does someone cope with coming back from the dead? Secrets are hidden and heroes are forged but is love really enough to save the day this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: Into Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys. It's a lot darker than my usual fic style, but I think in the end it will be worth it. If you're worried about the 'major character death' tag, don't be. That's going to set up the plot for the entire fic. Although it is primarily an Olicity fic, it will also feature Merlance and Nyssara pretty heavily. I know I've been teasing this fic a lot on Tumblr, so I'll stop talking now and let you read! Thank you for reading!

Her body was still warm.

But it was pale, lifeless. Her lips, once bright and pink and lovely were pale and cracked. Her blue eyes, once sparkling and full of joy, were now empty balls of glass. And yet there seemed to be one last secret hidden within them, one last word on her lips, unspoken.

Oliver slowly peeled his hands away from his face. It was his fault. His fault she was gone. He took her hand in his, clutching it to his chest.

Her body was still warm. God why did it still have to be warm?

His lip trembled as tears streaked down his face. “I love you, Felicity,” he whispered. Perhaps somewhere she could hear him. Perhaps somewhere in this universe there was still a piece of Felicity alive and well.

He felt a hand at his shoulder.

“She’s gone, Diggle,” he said. “She’s gone and it’s all my fault. If I had only gotten here sooner I could have…I should have…I should have told her.”

The hand squeezed him a little before letting go.

“I’m sorry, Oliver.”

Oliver looked up to see tears in Diggle’s eyes, too.

“I loved her.” He paused, looking back down at her body. “I love her.”

“I know.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Roy entered the foundry, eyes opened wide when he saw Felicity lying still on the metal table. He looked at Oliver.

“Please tell me she’s not...”

Oliver looked at Roy, then looked down, his first two fingers rubbing against his thumb. Her red dress was stained with blood, the vermillion color stark against the golden strands of her hair. It was never meant to be like this. This was supposed to be the first of hopefully many dates. It was supposed to be the start of something new and hopeful, full of light and life, just like her.

“No!” shouted Roy, shaking his head. “She can’t be…”

“She is,” growled Oliver. “She is and it’s all my fault!”  

The foundry was dead silent. It was Diggle who broke the silence, gently guiding Roy out of the room, leaving Oliver alone with Felicity. Once he was alone, Oliver sat and wept for himself, for Sara, for Tommy, for Felicity. He wasn’t sure he could even go on without her.

He held her hand even as it grew cold.

* * *

 

_Joy. Romance. Love. Love?_

_Love._

_Fire. Pain. Fading._

_Light._

_Death?_

_Tommy. Sara._

_No. No. No._

_Cannot go. Will not go._

_Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_Oliver._

* * *

He dreamed about her that night.

He dreamed about holding her in his arms, first out of love, and then suddenly in death. He wasn’t quick enough to save her, to protect her. He’d put her in danger and she was lying there. He watched her die.

“Oliver.”

She spoke his name, beckoning him. Where? He didn’t know. But he would follow her even in death. He turned to find her standing there before him, her form soft and light, more ethereal than he had ever seen her. (And on their first date she had looked so otherworldly.) Suddenly it seemed less and less like a dream.

She held out her hand, and Oliver put his hand in hers, fingers tingling at the sensation. His hand nearly passed through hers. Whatever it was that was guiding him, it was not physical. It was not real. She was not real. She was gone. Wasn’t she?

He followed her through the city, to a silent field. The silence should have been calming.

It was terrifying.

She said nothing as she showed him the stone staircase leading down, down, down, deep into the earth. Felicity stepped onto the first step and looked back at him. She stepped down another step, her slate colored eyes staring deep into his own.

Oliver hesitantly placed a foot down on the perfectly carved stone step.

“What makes you think the living can enter the land of the dead?” echoed an unknown voice.

Oliver stared at Felicity, longing in his eyes. Both of them moved forward and he pressed his lips to hers, feeling not the soft lushness of her lips as he expected, but rather a coldness that seeped down into his bones.

_Find me._

The thought echoed in his soul. As Felicity faded from sight down into the darkness of the earth, Oliver realized that this had to have been more than a dream.

He woke with a start. He paused, trying to get his bearings. He was still in the foundry and had fallen asleep on the cot. Oliver felt a chill race up his spine as he remembered his dream.

His lips were cold.

 

 


	2. Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are with chapter 2! There's a few things I'm still not entirely happy with in this chapter, but everything is necessary for the rest of the story. Enjoy! Come talk to me on Tumblr @redpendreaming!

The foundry door opened that morning. Oliver didn’t look up. Instead, he laid on the cot and did nothing, barely looking over to see Diggle walking down the stairs.

“You look like hell,” said Digg.

Oliver shrugged. “Guess I look the way I feel, then.” He slowly sat up. “First Sara, now Felicity. I can’t…”

Digg just sat down next to Oliver, who put his head in his hands.

“Is it crazy that I’m still looking for a way to save her?” he asked.

Digg nodded. “She’s gone, Oliver. That will take time to accept.”

Oliver shook his head. “The thing is, I think I can still bring her back. I had a dream last night…but it didn’t feel like a dream. She showed me a staircase, told me to find her. She kissed me and my lips still feel cold.” His fingers unconsciously brushed over his own lips as he remembered the kiss. That kiss should have been real.

Diggle frowned. “Oliver, the grieving process is different for everyone. You’ve lost two people you’re close to this week. You’ve never been good at grieving. Allow yourself time and space to grieve.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to, Oliver.”

“No, I can’t, Diggle. I have to go out and keep fighting. I have to fight for them. And what if I really do have a chance to somehow bring her back? If I have the chance to bring Felicity back from the dead I’m going to take it.” He clenched his fists in anger, although Oliver wasn’t certain who he was more angry at: Diggle or himself.

The foundry door creaked and Diggle and Oliver looked up, surprised to see Nyssa standing there, eyes filled with shock and anger.

“Sara is dead.” It wasn’t a question.

Oliver could do nothing but look down and set his head in his hands.

Nyssa looked over to see Felicity’s body lying there, her eyes suddenly growing wide. “How did this happen?”

Oliver stood up and stood toe to toe with Nyssa. “We...we were on our first date. We’d had it scheduled before Sara’s death and we thought it would be a nice break for both of us but someone had been targeting me. They blew up the restaurant. I…” he paused and looked down. “I couldn’t get to her in time.”

Nyssa lowered her head out of respect for the dead. “I understand how the death of the beloved aches. The death of your Felicity is shocking indeed. My father will not be pleased.”

Oliver wrinkled his brow. “What does your father have to do with any of this?”

“You do not know the kind of power the League of Assassins has. A great amount of power and knowledge comes with the understanding that the leader is practically the god of death,” replied Nyssa.

Oliver clenched his fists. “Stop being so damn cryptic.”

Nyssa raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you? In your dreams, you know she’s calling to you from the Underworld.”

“How the hell do you know about my dreams?”

Nyssa’s face softened. “Because Sara is in mine. Oliver, in your dream, did she show you a staircase?”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

Nyssa sighed, stepping away from him. “Then there’s at least a chance that you might be able to save her.”

“How?” asked Diggle, stepping closer to Oliver and Nyssa. “To my knowledge no one can return from the dead.”

Nyssa laughed. “I have.”

Oliver and Diggle stared at her, shocked. Nyssa simply shrugged. “My father oversees the coming and going of souls. Do you think he’s lived this long simply by luck? Why do you think I have lived this long?”

Diggle glanced at Oliver, giving him his ‘what the hell, Oliver?’ look.

“If I spoke to your father, do you think I could do something to bring back Felicity?” he asked.

Nyssa considered it. “My father does not simply give people back to the people they love. What makes you think he will make a deal with you?”

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t know. But I need to speak to him.” At this point, he was damn near desperate.

Nyssa nodded. “Very well. I will make arrangements.”

“Oliver, you can’t do this!” exclaimed Diggle. “Look, I miss Felicity too  , but this whole resurrection business...it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“John, it’s Felicity!” he shouted. He turned to Nyssa. “Nyssa, do you think…do you think he would let you bring Sara back? If I went down there to bring back Felicity, could…could we bring back others?”

Nyssa grinned. “Just watch him try to stop me from bringing back my Little Bird.”

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief as Nyssa left just as quickly as she arrived.

“Oliver, do you really think making a deal with the god of death to bring back Felicity is a good idea?” asked Diggle.

Oliver shook his head. “No, it’s probably a very bad idea. But I have to try. And if Nyssa can bring Sara back…”

“Don’t go alone, Oliver. I’m not sure I want to go with you into the Underworld. But don’t go alone. And I don’t just mean Nyssa. Even if Sara did love her, I don’t trust her.”

Oliver nodded. “Noted. I think I know just who to call. Tell Roy. Watch over the city while I’m gone.”

“Oliver, are you coming back?”

Oliver simply shrugged. “I don’t know.” For the first time in over a week, he felt at peace.

And with that, Oliver left.

It was strange, calling Laurel and telling her that there was a chance she could bring Tommy back from the dead. However, when he explained the mission and what Nyssa had told him, she quickly agreed to join him.

“Oliver?” she said at the end of their conversation. “I’m sorry about Felicity. I hope we succeed.”

“Thanks, Laurel.”

Oliver hung up the phone and after a few moments of gathering his thoughts, he called the last person he wanted to.

Malcolm took little to no convincing. Oliver hated calling Malcolm. But he couldn’t go alone, and Malcolm was a skilled fighter. Besides, Malcolm had lost all of his family. Oliver knew that feeling, and if he could give at least some of it back to Malcolm, he would.

Within a matter of hours, Oliver stood at the edge of the stone staircase Felicity had shown him in his dream. He stared down into the darkness, hoping that he found her, hoping that they all made it out alive. And if he died, he would lose nothing.

“So we’re going into the Underworld to bring back the people we’ve loved and lost?” asked Laurel.

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

“And there’s no way of knowing if it will work at all?” she asked. “If we’re even gonna live?

“Well, do you want to bring back Tommy or not?” asked Oliver.

Laurel was quiet, staring down at the staircase, head spinning with thoughts and regrets. “It’s just…it’s my fault he’s dead. Every time I think I’ve gotten over him I just haven’t.” She closed her eyes. “Even after all this time, I still love him. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else.”

Oliver should have felt hurt by her words, but strangely enough, he wasn’t.

“I know the feeling,” said Malcolm, walking toward them.

Laurel narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here, Malcolm?”

Malcolm tilted his head and smirked. “I’m here to go into the Underworld to bring back my wife. Do you have a problem with that Laurel?”

Laurel frowned. “Oliver can I talk to you for a moment?” She pulled Oliver aside without hesitation.

Oliver stared at her.

“What the hell were you thinking, inviting Malcolm?” she demanded.

“Do you think I wanted him here? Do you think that I forgot that he’s the one responsible for the death of hundreds of people?” replied Oliver, shrugging. “He’s lost his family too, Laurel. Malcolm may be a terrible person, but if I’m going to go into the Underworld to save the ones I love, we should allow him the same chance.”

Laurel raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget his role in Tommy’s death? And probably Sara’s?”

Oliver sighed. “Look, Laurel, I don’t want him here, but we can’t tell him to leave. I’ve made my decision.”

“Do you think Felicity would be happy with what you’re doing, Oliver? With letting Malcolm come, too?”

“Don’t you dare use her name against me, Laurel,” growled Oliver in response.

Laurel shrugged and crossed her arms. “Just like all the times you asked me how Tommy would feel about what I was doing. It doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

Oliver just glared.

Laurel grinned as she approached the rest of the group. “So. Who’s ready to go into the Underworld?”

Everyone just stared at each other and then one by one, began to descend the stairway, into the world below. 


	3. It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to update on Fridays but ooops that hasn't happened. Sorry guys. Been busy lately but hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things again soon! (And hopefully my muse stays with me!) I know it's kind of a short chapter but the real action is coming soon, I promise!

_Be safe, Oliver._

_Be safe._

_Be sound._

_Find me._

_Find me._

_Find Tommy._

_Find Sara._

_Rebecca._

_Who are you?_

_Rebecca._

_Friend or foe?_

_Friend._

_Malcolm is coming._

_Malcolm is here._

_Why are you so afraid?_

_Friend._

_Come back._

\--

The further they descended, the darker it got until it was nearly pitch black.

“I can’t see anything!” exclaimed Laurel.

Nyssa grabbed onto Laurel’s hand. “I know the way. Everyone hold on to each other. This is a dangerous road.”

“I thought that was obvious,” muttered Oliver under his breath. He wouldn’t admit it, but his heart was pounding.

Into the darkness they descended until all they knew was the feel of the hand holding theirs. The darkness was smothering and thick, like drowning in ink. They heard a low, threatening growl that seemed to echo all around them.

“Where did that come from?” asked Laurel, squeezing Nyssa’s hand a little bit tighter.

Oliver shook his head, forgetting that no one else could see the subtle movement. “I have no idea.” He felt unusually nervous. He’d never felt this nervous before a mission before.

“Keep walking,” ordered Nyssa. “We can’t lose hold of each other.”

They kept walking, trying not to be frightened of the growling darkness.

“Something just touched my leg,” said Laurel, her voice thin with fear.

“We have to keep walking. We should be nearing the river. Once we cross, we will meet with my father,” replied Nyssa, trying to still the fear in her own voice. The entrance for her had never been this terrifying before. Perhaps that was because her act of saving Sara would inherently place her at odds with Hades himself.

Hades was a role she was born for, however. If she succeeded here, it would be her right to become Hades. She would be Hades, Sara would be her Persephone. As it was always meant to be. She would prove her worth as a hero and prove her worth and Heir of Hades.

A few more steps and they heard the river. Only, this river did not babble or rush or rage like rivers do. No, this river meandered slowly with the soft groans of dead and dying souls flowing toward judgement, toward paradise or punishment. It was the eeriest thing any of them had heard.

“Anyone else get the feeling we’re being watched?” asked Malcolm as a dim grey light began to appear on the horizon.

“We are,” answered Nyssa bluntly.

“Great,” muttered Oliver.

The darkness cleared, and they saw the river before them, water and souls flowing ever inward into the afterlife. On the shore of the river stood a man with dark hair and grey eyes the color of the sky right before a thunderstorm, his gaze holding the same ferocity.

“I am Nyssa al Ghul, Heir of Hades. We request passage across the river.”

The man held out his hand, and Nyssa produced four coins. He slowly looked over the four of them and nodded.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had heroes down here,” he said, voice gravelly and low, aged with wisdom and power.

Laurel felt a shiver go down her spine at the word ‘hero.’ Sure, she’d worn Sara’s leather jacket down here, but that was more for comfort and inspiration than anything else. She wasn’t a hero. How could she save Tommy if she wasn’t a hero like the others?

Oliver looked down at his shoes. Sure, he was a vigilante. Maybe a hero. But he had so much blood on his hands, so much wrong he had done, he wasn’t sure he deserved the title. If other people thought he was a hero, good for them. But to himself? Oliver had no idea who or what he was.

Malcolm smirked.

Nyssa nodded her head and waved them aboard the small boat. As they all got settled in the boat Nyssa whispered, “Look straight ahead. Do not look down.”

“Why?” asked Laurel.

Nyssa turned to her, gaze completely steely. “Because some souls envy the living.”

No one said anything after that. They rode in silence, trying to ignore the souls beneath them as they slowly floated toward the temple on the other side of the river.

“I still hear growling,” whispered Laurel, nervously glancing around.

No one said anything. Oliver heard it too. They soon landed on the other side of the river, each of them slowly stepping out of the boat.

“Thank you, Charon,” said Nyssa. “Your service is appreciated.” She bowed her head at him before turning on her heel and walking forward.

“Until next time, my lady,” he said before turning back to the boat and sailing toward the other side once more.

The four of them walked toward the temple, hands hovering near their weapons. Laurel was beginning to wish she knew how to properly fight with a weapon. Sure, self defense classes taught her how to hold her own in a fight, but nothing would have ever prepared her for this.

The way was quiet, the sort of silence that fills your bones with a deep ache of longing. None of them felt at ease with this silence.

And then it happened.

Then they saw the creature behind the growling, a large three-headed dog. The fight didn’t last long. One head grabbed Laurel by her pant leg, flinging her into darkness. Another head grabbed Oliver by his collar and dragged him toward the temple. Another took Malcolm and simply flung him wherever it pleased. Nyssa grabbed a small wind instrument out of her bag and began to play, almost immediately lulling the creature to sleep. Without further hesitation, she marched toward the temple.

The game had already begun.

 

 


	4. Trials: Oliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every hero must prove their worth. It's Oliver's turn to show he's a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for sticking with me. I'm really excited about what this fic holds. Special thanks to @simplyfragile who's helped me edit this fic and supported me ever since I put those teaser posters up. :)

Oliver woke inside the temple. It was odd, considering the fact that the three headed dog certainly had not taken him inside such a place. Last he recalled, he had been tossed around in the darkness by teeth gnashing at his skin. Oliver looked down. No visible marks on his body. How odd.

“It’s official,” muttered Oliver as he took in his surroundings. “I hate the Underworld.”

A figure in dark clothes approached him. “Oliver Queen,” he said. “I have been expecting your arrival.”

Oliver coughed as he stood within the belly of the temple, trying to size up the man before him. “Who are you?” he asked. His head hurt from his landing. Where was that dog, anyway? What had happened to him? How had he gotten inside the temple in the first place? Where were the others?

The man in robes walked slowly through the room, though it felt more like he was a wolf circling his prey. Oliver gripped his bow a little tighter, fingers turning white as they did so.

“Oh, there’s no need for your weapon, Mr. Queen. Not now, anyway. I have many names. You may call me Ra’s al Ghul, however,” he answered. “You’ve obviously come here for a reason. The living do not often enter the Underworld. Why are you here?”

Oliver sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I’m here for Felicity Smoak. I want her soul back.”

“Why should I let you retrieve her soul?” asked Ra’s.

Oliver stared at Ra’s. The questions were more difficult than he expected. Talking about his feelings didn’t come naturally to Oliver. It never had. Admitting how much he loved Felicity, even to himself, had always been a struggle.

“Because I love her.”

There. He said it, not just to her dead body, not just a broken admission to Diggle, but an answer to both Ra’s and himself. He was here to bring Felicity back because he loved her. No, because he loves her. Not past tense. She would live. It hurt too much to live without her. If Oliver died here, he wouldn’t have to. If he succeeded, he would have her in his life once again. Even if he never got a chance to be with her, having her close brought enough light into his life for him to see by.

“Many lovers lose the one they love too soon. I am not in the business of returning lost loves. Why should I let you go after her? The process will be painful. You may die before you reach her. You weren’t even lovers, were you?”

Oliver shook his head. “She’s worth it.”

Ra’s raised an eyebrow. “She is? Not you? What makes you a hero, Oliver?”

Oliver paused a moment, considering the question and what his answer would--or should--be. He settled on answering honestly. “I don’t know.”

“Remove your weapons and your shirt. It is custom,” ordered Ra’s.

Oliver did as instructed, reluctantly letting go of his bow. He breathed in quickly as the cold air hit his chest. Why was it so cold in here? He tensed as the man before him stared at him.

Ra’s suddenly tossed him a sword. “Prove your worth.”

Oliver swiftly caught the sword in his right hand, thankful that he managed to grab the hilt before the blade had hit him. Swordfighting wasn’t his best skill, but he could hold his own. Slade had taught him well. He owed a lot to his former friend.

“Prove your worth, and I will release you to save her.”

Oliver took a fighting stance, focusing all his energy on defeating Ra’s. Ra’s took his own fighting stance, holding his sword in front of his chest.

The fight did not last long.

Oliver struck first, aiming for his opponent’s chest. Ra’s deflected the blow and slashed at Oliver’s arm, moving toward him. It wasn’t long before Oliver felt trapped like prey before a wolf. A strike to his throat. A kick to the ribs. Oliver gasped for air, feeling the wind leave his lungs.

And then a sword through the chest. Had he really failed so quickly?

Felicity.

At least he’d be joining her. He could feel blood on his lips, the coppery taste stinging his mouth as his world faded into darkness.

* * *

Oliver woke again after what felt like an eternity. Why had he woken up? He looked down and examined the spot where Ra’s had stabbed him. Completely clean. What the hell?

Ra’s tossed him a sword. “Prove your worth. Fight.”

A surreal feeling of deja vu overwhelmed Oliver as he attempted to fight. It was exactly the same as the time before, only this time, he knew what Ra’s would do. And yet he still found himself with a sword through his middle. It was like a bad dream, waking up over and over again only to fight and lose against the same man.

Oliver lost count after the seventh fight.

And then,

“Enough!” he shouted, holding the sword at Ra’s throat, his opponent’s sword on the ground somewhere to the side. “Maybe I’m not a hero. Maybe I don’t deserve to bring her back. All I know is that she makes me want to be a better man. She helps me become the hero she thinks I am.”

Ra’s appeared to relax, a movement that made Oliver tense up. It had to be a trap.

“I see you’ve been learning. You are a worthy opponent and a good man. I ought to let you go bring her back.”

Oliver kept his sword at his opponent’s neck, its tip slowly drawing blood. “And will you let me save her?”

“I have two conditions,” said Ra’s. “You may lower your weapon. You have passed your test.”

Oliver nodded, breathing heavily and lowering his sword.

“You must not look back when you leave. Retrieve her from the Sea of Souls, but do not look back until you have both crossed the threshold back to your world.”

“And the second condition?”

Ra’s smiled.


	5. Trials: Laurel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter from Laurel's perspective. It's about Laurel. The chapter about Laurel. Laurel's chapter. Why? Because Laurel is a major character in this fic. This isn't just an Olicity story (though there's plenty of that, trust me) but more of a Team Arrow story. This isn't the only chapter about Laurel. I know not every reader likes Laurel. That's okay. But I do hope that you'll give her and this story a chance. I personally love this chapter and really like that way that it turned out. Don't give up on me just yet.

Laurel woke in a courtroom. A courtroom? Why was she in a courtroom? The last thing she remembered was being dragged into darkness by a three headed dog. She looked down. She was still wearing Sara’s leather jacket and her jeans. Not exactly her typical courtroom attire, but even without her signature power blazer she could probably still kick some ass.

“Laurel Lance,” said a man in the judge’s seat. He wore black robes that were nowhere near the same style as a judge’s robe, but he still carried an air of authority about him. “Please take the stand.”

“Yes, your honor,” answered Laurel without hesitation.

The judge stared at her intently. “Defend yourself. Why are you a hero? Why do you deserve to retrieve your loved one?”

Laurel’s head spun. She expected to have to fight to prove her worth. But arguing? Being a lawyer? Thinking on her feet? Well, it just felt natural.

“Because, your honor, I can. I’ll admit it. I’m not a hero in the classical sense. I’m no warrior, but I can hold my own in a fight. But I believe that heroism is about more than just your ability to fight. I may not wear a mask like the other heroes out there. I’m a lawyer,” Laurel paused, suddenly feeling a thrill rush through her body. This was exciting.

“Go on.”

“Most people think of lawyers as crooked, only out for the money. People assume that the lawyers who work on behalf of other people are either very bad lawyers or waiting to steal money from those who already lack money. This is not the case for me. I am an excellent lawyer. I graduated near the top of my class, nearly took a position with a high end law firm right after I graduated. However, I chose to work for the people. I chose to work for CNRI. I dedicated my life to fighting for justice with the law. The law often fails people. The justice system that I work for is hardly fair to some people. It may not be much, but I want to give justice to the ones who lack it.”

Laurel cleared her throat as she prepared for her big finish.

“I’m a hero because I love justice. And I fight for it in the ways I can. I may never take up a mask like my sister or like Oliver. I may one day decide that the justice I work with is not enough. But for now, I do the best I can.”

The man in robes kept staring at her, his eyes piercing through her determined gaze. “And what about Tommy? Do you still hold yourself partially responsible for his death?”

Laurel looked down and bit her lip. That would be a tough one to argue.

“Your honor, I have held myself responsible for his death for some time. However, it was my dedication to justice that kept me there when I should have left.”

“So you admit that your own heroism is what led to his death?”

“It was Malcolm Merlyn’s obsession with destroying The Glades that led to his death. If Tommy hadn’t been there it would have been me lying there in the rubble. He was a hero. Don’t you think it’s my turn to be a hero and save him?”

Laurel raised an eyebrow, her breathing calm while she tried to slow her racing heart. Deep breaths. This was just like any other legal battle. Laurel was a hero in her own right. She was finally starting to believe that.

“I cannot find a way to disagree with you, Miss Lance.” He stood up from his seat and approached Laurel. “I am Ra’s al Ghul. Some know me as Hades.”

So this was Hades. Nyssa’s father. This was the man she had to prove herself to. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He chuckled. “You’re one of the more formal heroes I’ve received,” he said, a lilt in his voice and a light in his eye.

Laurel shrugged, a soft smirk on her face. “Courtroom etiquette. It sets a good standard and makes a good impression.”

“Well, your arguments for saving Tommy are quite compelling. You make a good case for your own heroism. Unfortunately, in this case your task is also quite physically taxing. Do you think you can handle the challenge?” asked Ra’s.

Laurel nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Without warning, Ra’s aimed a punch at her. Laurel only narrowly dodged it. It didn’t take long until she found herself flat on her back in aching pain.

“Get up and fight!” he shouted.

Laurel stood up. Ra’s landed a solid punch to her gut before striking her nose, sending her reeling backward. Blood dripped from her face.

“Get back up!”

Laurel did so and took a fighting stance. She finally managed to get one good hit to his shoulder, although he used her small stature against her and once again she landed hard on the ground. This was getting tiring.

By this point she was on her hands and knees, panting.

“Get back up!” Ra’s kicked her. Laurel hardly had the strength to move. “I said get back up!” He kicked her again.

This time, Laurel grabbed his leg and yanked, knocking him off balance, enough for her to get back up.

She was bleeding. Her knuckles were sore, her nose was possibly broken, and every muscle screamed at her to stop. But she kept fighting. Each time he beat her down, she stood back up again until she was practically unconscious.

“Your fighting is weak. I could have killed you in seconds,” said Ra’s, circling Laurel.

Laurel spat to the side, ridding her mouth of the coppery blood that had begun to pool. “But you didn’t.”

“You’re weak. Hardly trained. Your form is adequate at best. And yet you keep going. You do not fight well, but your spirit is strong. Well done, Laurel. You may bring back Tommy on one condition,” answered Ra’s.

Laurel nodded. “And that is?”

“You must not look back until you have both crossed the threshold back into your own world,” he said.

Laurel blinked, and the blood was gone. Her body no longer ached, and her nose was definitely not broken. They now stood in the temple.

“I agree to your condition.”

Ra’s nodded. “Go.”

With that, Laurel raced to go find Tommy.

 

 


	6. Trials: Nyssa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter does have some depictions of blood in it. Because Underworld. And if you're still sticking with me on this story, thank you!

Nyssa knew she had a number of advantages over her companions, although she was certain her father would not make this easy on her. In fact, it was more than likely that this act would put her at odds with her father. She was risking her role as a demigod in order to save the woman she loved. She knew her father disapproved, but Nyssa was surely a worthy opponent and Heir if it came to that.

But that didn’t matter. Sara’s life always mattered more to her than anything else, even her own life. She approached the temple, terribly aware of everything going on around her. Her father stood in the center of the temple, his back toward her.

“You have come to bring back your beloved.” It was not a question.

“Indeed I have.”

“You know the risks, then.” It was a warning.

“I do,” she answered firmly.

Ra’s turned to face her, his eyes full of a fierceness Nyssa was very familiar with, but still no less terrified of. “Prove yourself!”

The world around Nyssa suddenly turned dark as Ra’s disappeared. She stood still and gripped the dagger attached to her belt. She heard a soft crying in the distance. She knew it could be nothing good, not with the way her father had left her in utter darkness. Each step was a danger; but there was no use walking with trepidation. She walked slowly and cautiously so she might be certain of where her steps would lead her.

But Nyssa knew that cry. She knew the cry before she saw the girl. It was simultaneously a relief and a nightmare all at once.

Sara sat on the ground, crying.

“Sara?” ventured Nyssa. “Are you alright my love?” She dared not touch her beloved. Not in this state under these conditions.

Sara stood up and faced Nyssa, her face distorted in a shriek, blood covering her chest. “How could you!”

Nyssa took a step back. So this is how her father intended on tormenting her. “Sara, I am here to save you. Return with me.”

Sara took another step toward her. It was just a nightmare. It was only the torment of her father. She knew it was. And yet...part of her was terrified of this new form of Sara. How was it that the woman she loved could frighten her so deeply?

“Why should I go with you? You’re a killer and a monster,” spat Sara.

Nyssa’s hands began to shake. “You’re the one who reminds me that I am no monster.”

“You’re a killer, Nyssa. Look at how much blood you have on her hands. How many innocent lives have you taken in the name of your father? You’re willing to kill quickly and without thought. How are you any better than me? How are you any better than Hades himself?”

Nyssa looked down at her hands, now dripping with blood, the warm liquid sending a chill through her body. The blood itself did not frighten her. Years of working as a highly skilled assassin taught her not to fear blood. No, it was not the blood. The coupling of Sara’s harsh words with the blood on her hands (the blood of her victims) set a chill in her bones that she hadn’t felt for years.

“I would like to be better than my father. I am better than him. I am trying to be the hero you deserve.” Nyssa clenched her fist a little tighter, the blood oozing out of her fists. “I am sorry I have failed you, my love. Let me try to show you what I can be.”

Everything faded back into reality. Ra’s stood there, a frown upon his face.

“I cannot deny that your response to this challenge was acceptable. You know how I feel about this, and you know what you risk. You know my condition?” he asked.

Nyssa nodded. “I must not look back until we both reach the upper world.”

With a silent flick of his wrist, Ra’s dismissed Nyssa.

Nyssa did not move. The test was not yet finished.

“You have not moved. I would have thought you would be racing toward your beloved by now,” said Ra’s, turning his head slightly.

Nyssa stiffened, her hand slowly moving toward the dagger at her waist. “I am waiting for you to leave. I am not certain that you wouldn’t send a dagger through my neck the moment I turned around,” she answered.

With almost inhuman speed, Ra’s spun around, and Nyssa found herself only just blocking his blade. Her hand bled as it pressed against the knife.

“You are wise, daughter. I have taught you well.”

Ignoring the biting pain in her hand, Nyssa shoved her father back. “I am no fool.” She drew two blades from her sleeves and prepared to fight.

Ra’s moved first. It was almost like a dance of waters, two forces moving ebbing and flowing, attack, defend, movements quick and precise. Nyssa could ignore the pain. She could not ignore the fact that one of them would leave victorious. The other would be dead. She certainly would not let it be her.

The fight went on for what felt like ages with no clear winner. Nyssa refused to give up and give in. Losing meant not just losing herself, but losing Sara. She would not lose Sara. Knives held at each other’s throats, it seemed this fight would last until exhaustion. Unless…

“Indeed you are a worthy opponent, my child,” said Ra’s, trying not to show how heavily he was breathing. “I appreciate your tenacity and wisdom. Go.”

It was the highest compliment she could (or likely would) ever receive from her father. Nyssa ran toward the Sea of Souls, not unconvinced that her father would not follow her to kill her along the way. Even so, she ran.

She would prove to Sara she wasn’t a monster. She would prove it to herself. Still, a large part of Nyssa feared that Sara would still see things the same way once she brought her back. She hoped not.

There was only one way to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Feed my muse and review?


End file.
